


like nothing else

by semaphoredrivethru



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bruises, Dude it's Beacon Hills, First Kiss, M/M, protective!Danny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 08:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1504175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semaphoredrivethru/pseuds/semaphoredrivethru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny misses the old Stiles.</p><p>OR</p><p>Danny wanted everything to change. You know what they say about being careful what you wish for...</p>
            </blockquote>





	like nothing else

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt:](http://transfixeddream.livejournal.com/135141.html?thread=3701989)
> 
> Danny is an intelligent guy. No, really. He flatters himself that he's pretty observant, and really, you'd have to be blind not to see that something has been going on for the past year or so. Danny hasn't figured out what it is, exactly, because everyone's being cagey about it, but it's definitely there. All he knows right now is that suddenly Scott and Jackson have stopped being mortal enemies and are hanging out together (albeit grudgingly), and deliberately keeping Danny out of things. Hell, even Stiles has stopped asking inappropriate questions during science, and is weirdly subdued even when they study together. Actually, now that he thinks of it, Stiles has been acting like someone ran over his dog for a while now, and, yeah, okay, Danny misses the way Stiles used to get up all in his space, his spastic energy, his boundless enthusiasm, the spark of intelligence that he likes to keep hidden but which Danny could always see, how smiling seemed to come so easily to him, and... oh God. Danny is so screwed.
> 
> I wrote this a year and a half ago. I seriously suck at remember to post things.

Danny’s had a ritual of sorts since he was a kid, and it sounds stupid now, but the night before the first day of school, he lies in bed and tells himself over and over how this year is going to be different than the last. When he came out at the end of Eighth Grade and everyone was so very careful not to be weird, making everything even more awkward and uncomfortable than before, Danny had known, he’d just _known_ that Freshman year was going to be different. And it was. It wasn’t as though everyone had forgotten, but they’d finally gotten over themselves and Danny could just be one of the guys again. It was awesome.

And if he’d been depressingly dateless the whole year, that was okay, because Sophomore year would be the time to turn things around. And he was right. Which, okay, maybe wasn’t always such a good thing, but it was nice getting to make out and hook up on a semi-regular basis when half the guys on the team still hadn’t even gotten a hand up a girl’s shirt yet.

So yeah, Danny had his ritual, where he’d tell himself how things would be different. The power of positive thinking, you know? Of course, he isn’t sure what exactly would be different for him in Junior year, since most of what needs fixing involves the jackasses around him, so this year he’s concentrated on a general sense of self improvement.

Two months later, Danny’s wondering if maybe there isn’t something to this whole “be the change” thing, because nothing is the way he’s used to from the year before. Lydia is practically a recluse, still fierce and fashionable, but talking to only a select few people and teachers, no longer trying to rule the school. Jackson seems to actually _like_ McCall – and Danny hasn’t quite wrapped his head around Jackson being alive after all, but hey, gift horses and mouths, right? – and they’re always talking, hanging out, being shady with that hot Derek Hale guy from Stiles’s bedroom.

Even the werewolf talk in class has gone down to a dull roar, which is a relief, because Danny _still_ can’t believe he’s the only one last year who noticed all the freaky shit McCall and Stiles would talk about at totally inappropriate volumes.

And then there’s Stiles.

Stiles has been getting quieter and quieter as the school year goes on, and it’s almost Halloween and you’d think the kid would be talking up a storm, running on a perpetual sugar high, but he isn’t. They’re partnered again in Chemistry, but there aren’t any weird computer requests, though Stiles does cancel their meet ups with disturbing frequency; at least he doesn’t bother trying to come up with lame excuses like Jackson, just says he can’t make it and either reschedules or does his half of the lab on his own.

He’ stopped hitting on Danny, too. And that should be a relief, because Danny’s not anyone’s token gay guy, and he’s not going to play the stereotype to Stiles’s confused teenager, but at the same time, Danny kind of hopes Stiles didn’t figure shit out the hard way. He almost asks, a few times, but then chickens out. Yeah, everything seems like it’s different, but Danny’s not sure he wants to know _how_ different.

He realizes one day that he misses the old Stiles. That he’s been waiting for Stiles to ask, “Do you find me attractive?” again so he can actually answer this time. But it’s becoming more and more obvious that he’s missed the boat on that one and Stiles is never going to ask ever again.

Shit. Danny is so messed up.

And then, after an off-season practice about a week after that, Danny happens to glance over as Stiles pulls his jersey up. And he sees the bruises.

Big, dark, and mottled. Purple and green and yellow up and down his back, like he’s been thrown into a wall, or the floor, or been pounded on. Repeatedly.

Danny really didn’t want this kind of confirmation that Stiles was still 100% human.

He darts a look over at McCall, to see what he thinks about his best friend looking like a human punching bag, only McCall isn’t paying attention. At all.

So maybe Danny sees a little red, because for fuck’s sake, Stiles’s best friend is just standing there, flirting with Lahey. And yeah, Lahey’s cute in a puppy-dog kind of way (well, so is McCall, so Danny figures they should be perfect for each other), but come on.

As soon as Stiles slinks out of the locker room – alone – Danny drops his own shirt and stalks over to McCall and grabs him by elbow, shoving him against the nearest set of lockers. Yeah, the guy’s supposedly got that whole creature of darkness thing going for him, but Danny? Danny’s pissed.

“What the hell, Danny?” McCall asks, but doesn’t fight back. Lahey looks like he’s thinking about ripping Danny’s face off, but McCall always been smart enough to figure bad situations out before acting. It’s part of what makes him so good on the field, because he’s so good at strategy.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Danny says. “Stiles looks like ten miles of bad road and you don’t bat an eye. What’s your problem, McCall? I thought he was your boy?”

Dimly, there’s a voice in the back of Danny’s head that says something about over reacting and minding his own business. Danny ignores it.

McCall stares at Danny for a second, his eyes narrowed, and then he shrugs Danny’s hands off with a whole lot less effort than Danny’s pride is willing to admit to. “Stiles is fine,” McCall says at last. “He’s just had a rough couple of weeks.”

“He’s taking self-defense courses,” Lahey puts in, and Danny snorts at that. Lahey shrugs. “He’s not very good at it.”

“Stiles is fine, Danny,” McCall says, slow and soothing, like he’s talking to a spooked animal. “You can ask him yourself, if you want.”

For a moment, Danny wonders if Stiles has a boyfriend, if that boyfriend is beating him. Or a girlfriend, since abusers can be anyone.

He hesitates; McCall’s not stupid, he knows, but he’s been known to do the willful blindness route in the past. Come on, even Danny saw the writing on the wall with that Argent girl last year. But Lahey…Danny’s heard the rumors. He doesn’t think Isaac would stand by if someone was hurting Stiles.

“You sure?” He’s not sure which one he’s asking.

“Yeah.” Scott says, smiling gently. Lahey nods.

“We’ve got his back,” he says. “We take care of our own.”

Danny shakes his head, but lets it drop. McCall and Lahey finish changing and leave before Danny’s ready, but he’s done with them for now. He only hopes they’re meeting up with Stiles somewhere, and there’s no supernatural drama going on to rush them out.

But when Danny leaves the school, the last one out of the locker room, there are two cars in the parking lot. His and Stiles’s. Side by side.

Danny ignores the way it makes his stomach flip.

“I don’t need rescuing,” Stiles says, leaning against the driver’s side door of his busted-up Jeep. “But thanks.”

Of course. Still, Danny refuses to be embarrassed. “If someone’s hurting you…”

“Don’t worry about it, dude. It’s taken care of,” Stiles says, laughing. It’s his old laugh, open and loud, and Danny doesn’t get the joke, but it’s still nice to hear, even if there’s something off about it.

“Okay.” Danny leans next to Stiles, their shoulders brushing. “Is everything else okay, man?”

“Pshh, of course.”

Danny cocks an eyebrow.

Stiles shrugs awkwardly. “This year’s been weird, is all.”

“Lot of changes,” Danny says, casual and quiet. He doesn’t miss the way Stiles flinches.

“Yeah.”

“So are Scott and Isaac dating, or what?”

Danny’s question startles a genuine laugh out of Stiles, making him double over, slapping his knee. “Man, I don’t know, but I’ve got to tell Erica you said that,” he says at last. “I’ll owe her $20, but it’ll be worth it.”

“Erica Reyes?”

Stiles hums in agreement. Danny huffs a laugh; a lot of changes, indeed.

“But no, I don’t know,” Stiles says finally. “They’ve definitely got an epic bromance brewing, but the rest? Who knows.” He frowns. “Not me, that’s for sure.”

Danny can relate; he’s best friends with Jackson, after all. Still, it’s probably time to change the subject.

“What are you doing right now?” he asks as Stiles checks his phone. “Got a self-defense lesson?”

“What? No. Nothing, I mean, I was just going to go home and do some homework, you know? The usual. Maybe watch a crappy movie while I eat dinner since Dad’s got an evening shift.”

Danny inches closer. Stiles doesn’t inch away. “Let’s get dinner together. We can compare notes for Chem.”

“Yeah?” Stiles brushes his hand against Danny’s, too slow to be anything but deliberate.

“Yeah, come on.” Danny links their fingers together. He keeps looking at Stiles’s mouth, but holds back.

“It’s the bruises, isn’t it?” Stiles asks, quiet. “Makes me look so badass you can’t resist. Because you should totally see the other guy. Mopped the floor with him.”

“I’ve seen what happens when people underestimate you.” Danny leans a little closer, grinning. “We’ve got a State trophy thanks to you, don’t we?”

Stiles jerks a little, surprised for a few seconds before he melts closer. “Yeah,” he says. Their noses are brushing now, and Danny’s barely breathing. “Yeah, we do.”

And then Stiles’s phone goes off, an incessant, default ring tone that scares the crap out of the pair of them. Stiles fumbles the phone out of his pocket, swearing.

“This had better be so good,” he says by way of greeting. “No. No. Again, I tell you: no. Is the world ending? Then find someone else, I have plans for tonight. Call Lydia. I don’t care, I have a date. None of your business. You know what? I’m going to get one of those Rosetta Stone discs so I can tell you to fuck off in more languages. Yes. Thank you, you’re so kind.”

He hangs up and pockets the phone, looking back at Danny. “I don’t suppose you’d believe that was a youth volunteer organizer for my community service?”

Danny laughs, short and sharp. “I know. Well, most of it.”

Stiles frowns and looks like he’s going to make an excuse, but Danny heads him off.

“You guys aren’t exactly subtle, you know.”

“Yeah, well…” Stiles rubs the back of his neck. “Can we pretend you believe me? At least for tonight? Because I was kind of looking forward to that date and pretending I won’t have a cranky werewolf waiting for me after school tomorrow.”

“How is that your life?” Danny shakes his head and tangles their fingers together again.

“I ask myself that every day.”

Another laugh, and Danny leans in again, meeting Stiles and his mouth halfway.

Yeah. This is definitely nothing like last year.

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm on tumblr too!](http://semaphore-drivethru.tumblr.com/)


End file.
